Beyond Repair
by Hanabi Mitsu
Summary: Hermione has been thinking about Ron a lot lately, but when she decideds to mend everything between them, what will she encounter?  Hermione's point of view of the beginning of Ron and Lavender's relationship.


I hated being angry with him. Not that I felt that I didn't have any right to be furious. I mean, just when I thought we were going somewhere, that some of the holes in our ship had been plugged, he starts treating me like I'd done him a personal wrong. He would glare at me whenever I came down the stairs into the common room with the same expression I had seen so many times etched on Malfoy's pale face whenever he uttered the word, "Mudblood." He went back to how he was in first year, constantly grumbling about how big a know-it-all I am and snapping at me whenever I pushed him or Harry to get a move on their work. Nor did I miss every single thing he said about me to Harry when he thought I wasn't listening.

And then there was that whole Felix Felicis fiasco. I had every right to be angry for that. Harry had slipped what I thought was a banned substance. I would be irrational if I wasn't worried about what would happen if they were discovered. So of course I had to point that out to them, but he has to take it like I think he's an incompetent Quidditch player, which only increased his sneers at me.

But I missed Ron. I missed his smile that always lit up his eyes and his laugh that never failed to brighten my mood. The laugh I would give anything to hear.

I wandered around the lake. This was where I always seemed to find myself when I needed to clear my head and get answers, which seemed to be increasing lately. In first year my trips here were mostly to stress about my lack of ability to keep my mouth shut long enough for people to actually get to like me. I was just so anxious to prove myself to everyone that before I realized it, I had shoved away all possible friends. One thing is for sure though. I will never again criticize a troll.

Once I had the friends problem mostly under control, I began to walk around the lake because I was so stressed about homework that I couldn't think anymore. Of course, Voldemort soon became another problem that would cause me to trudge around the lake, watching the small waves lap up against the banks, even when the wind was so cold that the flecks of water became ice.

Fourth year had started a different worry—Harry's safety. I loved him like the brother I had never had, and for those months during that dreaded Tournament, I could never have a peaceful night's sleep without thinking or dreaming about all those ways that he could be killed. I suppose I had worried about him since first year what with dark wizards constantly trying to kill him, but I think that I have really always thought of him as invincible, that Voldemort could never actually kill him—a wizard Harry had defeated as an infant. A nasty dragon, well, that was a completely different story. The Tournament was really what opened my eyes to what danger he was really in. Since Voldemort came back, my worries have just increased exponentially.

But lately I had been coming here for an entirely different reason. It was a stupider, much more personal reason. For close to two years now, I came down here thinking about…well, about Ron.

I can still remember the first time since third year that he was my reason. While I was walking around the lake, I was more likely to yank out his pituitary gland than to think any pleasant thoughts about him. It was the morning after the Yule Ball. I hadn't slept well. Ron's face kept appearing in my thoughts. Not in the way a crush might, though. I just remembered the way he looked at me when he realized I was with Viktor. To be absolutely honest, I wasn't sure at all how Ron would take that idea—of Viktor and me. I thought maybe he would laugh at me or look at me strangely because his best female friend had started that awkward phase in her life when she started looking at the opposite sex differently. I had never expected the rage and sense of utmost betrayal he presented me with. My main reason to walk around the lake was to thoroughly abuse him in my mind so that I wouldn't abuse him to his face or risk getting into another epic row like the one during third year.

I was surprised at how much his rage cut into me. Had I really done something so horrible that it had caused this? I Of course not /I , I told myself. And, besides, he had no right to react like that. How could he possibly object so thoroughly to something that was making me happy? How could he do that as my friend? Besides, I knew he had been drooling over that Fleur Delacour for how long? Shouldn't it make more sense for I me /I to be angry with I him /I ?

Admittedly, Fleur became someone who always seemed to pop unwillingly into my head as someone who was everything I wasn't—excessively beautiful, confident, and able to catch anyone she wanted. In her presence, Ron was mush in her lovely hands.

I realized very quickly that, as nice as Viktor was, I didn't like him like I that /I . Ron was a different matter… Yes, I'll admit it; I care more for him than just about anyone else I can think of.

And then fifth year came around, and I was sure we were going somewhere. We had spent the summer almost solely in each other's presence. We banded together against Harry's rage and angst. I even kissed his cheek when he was headed off for the Quidditch pitch. Of course I had kissed Harry on the cheek before, but this felt so very different. Harry never blushed like mad when I kissed him, nor did I ever feel a warm glow spreading throughout me. I think Ron and I both knew the kiss I meant /I something, but he did nothing about it. It seemed like whenever we were on the brink of something…nothing.

It was this that brought me to the lake so many times. Frustration occupied by time here instead of swooning. There were so many times part of me just wanted to go up to Ron and begin throttling him until he let me know whether I was wasting my time on him or not. Another voice told me that even if he responded in the negative, I wouldn't care.

I was supposed to be "the smart one." So why didn't I understand what was going on between us? I have never understood where we stood, and there was a slight tugging at the back of my mind that I didn't want to listen to that told me I never would, that we would be forever in some kind of limbo.

I sat down by the lake's edge and put my hand in its mirror-like surface. The chill ran up my fingers through my whole arm, but I didn't remove it. I made little ripples in the water with my fingers and watched as the ripples spread out. The icy water helped clear my head and bring me back to reality.

But perhaps there was hope. I hadn't given up this far, so why should I now? Even when Ron was acting like, well, a stupid, teenage boy, I still cared for him.

And, perhaps, he cared for me. After all, he hadn't broken off our, well, date for Slughorn's party.

I withdrew my hand quickly from the lake and wiped the water off with my robe, smiling. It was amazing how such a small idea could cheer me up. Even Ron, as thickheaded as he was, couldn't deny…anything any longer at the party. Everything would finally come out.

In fact, I would make everything come out I now /I . I stood and practically ran to the common room.

I should have done this so much sooner. I was going to forgive him for his idiocy and his cold-shouldering me. I was going to forgive it all. And then, if he wanted me and let me…I was going to kiss him. I couldn't believe how very… I right /I that thought felt in my mind.

I said the password, positively beaming. The Fat Lady swung open, looking at me like I might be mad.

I could feel my heart trying to break free of my chest. It felt like the butterflies in my stomach were on caffeine.

My eyes sought red hair, but I just found Ginny talking to Harry. Then something red in my periphery caught my attention.

Oh, yes, it was Ron. The red hair I saw had fingers knotted in it. I Lavender Brown. /I They were closely intertwined and kissing passionately.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't I want /I to believe it. Ron couldn't I actually /I be doing this…

I could feel myself breaking. Ron had torn my heart from my chest and shredding it into pieces. Pain like nothing I had never felt before starting coming out. I couldn't think of anything that could hurt more than this right now, not even the Cruciatus Curse. I could feel the toe of my shoe kicking the back of my ankle, trying to cause myself some bearable, minor, physical pain to get my attention off of the emotional pain coming from my empty chest.

My first inclination was to run over and attempt to mummify her just like the ancient Egyptians used to do, by removing her brain—if she had one—through her broken nose. Make her feel even just a fraction of my pain.

I felt like tearing through the common room, punching, kicking, and breaking everything I could and crumpling up in a dark corner and crying at the same time.

The weaker option took hold of me first, but I knew something more would come later. I could feel my eyes fill with tears.

"Ron, how could you?" I whispered, though I knew he couldn't hear.

I turned on my heel and ran as fast as I possibly could out of the common room. I would not let I him /I see me cry.

All those holes in our ship that had been patched burst forth. The sails tore. The mast collapsed. And we sunk, sunk to the very bottom of the ocean, beyond salvaging, beyond healing, beyond repair.


End file.
